


Fight Me

by orphan_account



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alcohol, Fights, M/M, Morning After
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 14:34:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7848835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you wake up at a different time in a different place, could you wake up as a different person?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fight Me

Ryan didn’t drink very often. He wasn’t too fond of the stuff after growing up with an alcoholic for a father. He wasn’t afraid of it or anything, he just didn’t see the need to be drunk in order to have a good time. Unfortunately, his sparse drinking habits meant he had a fairly low alcohol tolerance. This wouldn’t normally be a problem, except when Ryan drank, _he drank_.

That led to his current situation, shitfaced and trying to fight a complete stranger.

Honestly, he wasn’t really sure _why_ he was trying to fight said stranger, all he knew was that he must defend his honor (although there really wasn’t much of that left to defend). He had both fists up, bouncing around although to the spectators, it looked more like he was stumbling and trying not to fall flat on his face. He was good, though, he could take this guy easily. He was Ryan Ross, after all.

(What that had to do with whether or not he could actually fight this stranger, nobody had any clue, but it seemed to be enough for Ryan. The stranger, for his part, was fairly relaxed about the whole thing, considering he was standing still with his arms crossed and an unimpressed but amused expression on his face.)

“I’ll kick your ass! I’ll kick your dog’s ass! I’ll kick my _own_ ass!”

Nobody, especially not Ryan, could figure out exactly how he managed to knock himself out, but he did so nonetheless. He thinks it might have happened when he tried to punch the other guy but accidentally hit himself in the face, but he can’t be sure as he was drunk and unconscious at the time. Of course, the next morning he didn’t remember a thing and was, understandably, confused when he woke up in a bed that was not his in an apartment that was also not his.

“Hell of a hangover, then?”

Ryan winced. “Honestly, I think I might still be drunk.” He looked up and _holy shit,_ he thought that angels weren’t real.

Ryan hoped he hadn’t slept with that guy, because he’d prefer to be able to remember the amazing sex that they would have had. Ryan was fairly certain (and mildly disappointed) that they hadn’t done anything more than sleep, if the fact that he was still wearing all of his clothes from the night before was any indication.

“What happened?”

The guy, shirtless (hot _damn_ ) and holding two cups of coffee, laughed. “I said you were pretty, you yelled ‘Fight me!’ and then knocked yourself out. It was actually really impressive.”

Ryan wanted to die. To be fair, Ryan always lowkey wanted to die, but at that moment the feeling was much stronger than usual. He buried his face in his hands, switching between muttered apologies and ‘thank you’s as the guy explained that, when he had found out Ryan’s friends had ditched him, he had taken him back to his place and made sure he hadn’t died in his sleep.

“So yeah, that’s pretty much it. I’m Brendon, by the way,” he said, handing the boy a still-hot mug of coffee. “Ryan, right?”

Ryan nodded but quickly stopped when the motion made him want to puke. Brendon smiled sympathetically and went to sit on the edge of the bed, his arm brushing against Ryan’s and definitely _not_ making the boy blush.

“Well, Ryan, I still think you’re pretty so if you don’t try to fight me, maybe I could make you breakfast and you could give me your number before you leave?”

Ryan was definitely blushing. 

“Yeah, I think I can do that.”


End file.
